Harry Potter and the Thief of Hearts
by blissfully evil
Summary: Rated R for later chapters. It's Harry's 5th year at Hogwart's, and it's far from dull. Little does he know that his tangled life is being carefully watched... and stolen... Lots of H/H, Nora/D, R/Cho, and G/Seamus
1. Chapter 01

A/N: One of the interesting things about this story is the fact that it uses flashbacks and multiple points of view. If you get confused (which you shouldn't, unless you're about eight, in which case you shouldn't be reading this anyway) just reread the part that confused you; you'll get it. Three asterisks separate each point of view (***). Enjoy!

CHAPTER 01

Harry's eyes sprang open as he awoke from a dream. It was an odd dream; he'd been flying on his Firebolt through a forest when his broomstick began to buck and thrash around. He'd been thrown off of it, and fell to the ground with a sickening 'thump'.

Then he woke up. Harry pressed his fingers to his scar, but it wasn't burning. "Good," Harry thought to himself, "At least Voldemort wasn't involved." Harry's eyes were burning, however.

In fact, Harry's head was pounding. And he felt somewhat nauseous… Harry began to think he might have the flu. He groaned as he looked at his calendar. It was his fifteenth birthday. He looked over to the electronic clock on his desk; it was 9:00 A.M.

Just then, there was a tapping on his window. Harry glanced up to see a tawny owl hovering outside on the other side of the glass. Harry stood up too quickly; he felt dizzy and had to lean onto his bed frame. He took a deep breath and opened his window to admit the owl. Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, let out a hoot of contempt at the intruder.

The tawny owl ignored Hedwig and landed on Harry's desk. Harry knew immediately where the letter came from. The green ink on the parchment envelope was unmistakable. It was a Hogwarts letter.

**__**

Mr. H. Potter

Still the Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Hogwarts letters were always either very good news… or very, very bad news. Harry opened up the letter apprehensively.

****

Dear Mr. Potter:

We are pleased to inform you ("Well… that's a good start," thought Harry,**) that you have been appointed a fifth-year prefect of Gryffindor House. In addition, we are also very happy to tell you that Madam Hooch has recommended that you receive the position of Quidditch Captain for the Gryffindor House team.**

Your silver prefect badge is enclosed. Please respond with an owl with your response as to whether or not you will be accepting these prestigious positions. Should you choose not to accept the position of prefect, please re-enclose the badge and send it back. Should you choose to accept the position, please wear your badge on 01 September to King's Cross Station. Thank you, and we look forward to hearing from you soon and seeing you on 01 September for the start of term. 

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Harry stared at the parchment in awe. Quidditch captain?! Prefect?! Harry couldn't believe it…

Without thinking about the possible consequences, Harry ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon was sitting at the kitchen table, eating eggs and bacon. Dudley sat at the table as well, munching on buttered toast. Dudley, who was still on a diet, had in all actuality, lost a very considerable amount of weight over the previous school year. He'd been on a very strict dietary regimen at his school, Smeltings. He was certainly not thin, like Harry, but not the size of a whale, as he'd been before. He, too, was fifteen.

Aunt Petunia stood at the counter, flipping pancakes. Harry didn't notice that yet another person sat at the kitchen table…

"Uncle Vernon! Uncle Vernon!" Harry came bounding towards the table. "I've just received an owl, and I've been made prefect AND Quidditch captain! Dudley! Can you believe it?"

Uncle Vernon's face turned a deep red and his nostrils flared with anger. Dudley's face assumed a look of horror. A newspaper on the opposite side of the table was lowered and a curious, shocked look was revealed upon the face of a girl who looked to be fourteen. Harry had the odd feeling he'd seen the girl before.

"Er…" Harry stammered, "Er- I…" He felt his cheeks flush and cleared his throat nervously.

__

"Now I've really blown it," thought Harry.

The girl raised a thin eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" Uncle Vernon snapped, giving Harry a very conspicuous look in which his eyes and chin jerked toward the girl at the table. "Stop this nonsense. We have a guest," he snarled viciously.

"Erm… I was j-just t-talking about something… somewhat unique to Hog- to my school!…" He looked and the girl, who had narrowed her large eyes. Harry decided to change the subject. "Who's this?"

"This is my niece and Dudley's cousin, Nora." Uncle Vernon gestured toward the girl. Aunt Petunia had stopped flipping pancakes and was staring at Harry with hateful eyes.

"Hello," Nora said with a small smile, turning to Uncle Vernon, "Uncle Vernon," she lowered her voice, and Harry pretended not to be able to hear. "Who is this?" Harry once again had an odd feeling that Nora really didn't need to find out who Harry was. Harry searched his mind for a name, a face, anything about this girl… but she had a Scottish accent, she couldn't have been from around here at any point. Family reunion? No… Harry had been shut up in rooms or cupboards far from the sight of the "Normal" Dursleys… Christmas, perhaps? No… Christmas was nothing more to Harry these past four years than a time to receive a paper clip or maybe some vile socks via post from the Dursleys, and to celebrate the fact that he wasn't with them, as he never received gifts anyway, let alone the mountain of presents he remembered had always been under the tree, each one marked, "For Dudley-kins from Mummy and Daddy" or even (though Harry knew Dudley only *pretended* to believe in Santa Claus to obtain more gifts) "To The #1 Name on the Good Boy List, Dudley Dursley… From Santa Claus." Harry had always chuckled at that. The least Santa could do is give me coal, Harry thought, to let me know I was on *some* list, be it the bad boy list…

"Nora," Uncle Vernon sighed, "This is Dudley's cousin Harry. Harry Potter. His mother was Petunia's sister."

"Oh!" A look of pity crossed Nora's face. "You're the poor little boy who had to go to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys…"

"What?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

Uncle Vernon shot Harry a death look.

"Oh yeah… that's me. Incurably criminal."

There was an awkward pause. No one wanted to seem to delve deeper into the subject. Harry continued mumbling,

"Fires and… stealing and… stuff. Yeah. Well… I'll just… go…" Harry turned and left for lack of anything else to say and a true desire not to discuss WHY he was supposedly 'incurably criminal' any more. He went upstairs and pulled out a parchment. He wrote a letter back to the Hogwarts administration telling them he'd be accepting the positions of prefect and Quidditch captain. He'd just sent the school owl back when he noticed something at his door. The door was open just a tiny bit, and a pair of large eyes was peeking through the crack.

"Nora!" Harry rushed over to the door and opened it.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Nora sounded frightened. "I saw your owl before and I…"

"You were wondering what I was doing with an owl," Harry finished. "They're not normal pets, are they?"

"Well… no. May I come in?" Nora asked timidly.

Harry opened the door a bit and said, "Don't touch anything." Then, without thinking, Harry did possibly the most stupid thing he could have ever done. "I'll be right back." He went downstairs to talk to Uncle Vernon… and left Nora in his room. Alone.

"Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of Nora," Harry ventured.

Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry turned to his aunt.

"Go upstairs, Harry. Don't leave her there by herself. We saw her go in, you know. We're not stupid."

Harry doubted this, but since Aunt Petunia sounded angry, Harry turned and went upstairs.

When Harry returned to his room, he gasped. Nora stood at his desk, examining his textbooks from his fourth year..

"Are these next year's books, then? Well, I'm taking Arithmancy, not Divination, but…"

Harry nearly fell over. "Nora! How… You… you're a witch!"

Nora turned around and gave Harry a small, innocent smile. "And you're a wizard."

Harry tried to process the fact that yet another relative of the Dursleys could possibly be magical. He grinned. "You go to Hogwarts?"

"Aye. I'm a fourth-year Ravenclaw." Nora smiled again. "You're a fifth-year Gryffindor."

"Yes. Yes I am. You know of me?"

"Who doesn't?" Nora laughed. "You're Harry Potter!" She grinned at him with admiration.

Harry gave a modest look and waved away Nora's flattering gaze. "St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys…" he mumbled with a crooked grin, then he chortled.

"Not nearly as bad as the one me parents made up," Nora set down Harry's Potions book. "They said I'd been sent to the Franciscan Sisters Convent in Majorca. My parents just wanted an excuse to travel to Majorca on holiday; they say they're visiting me. All the while I have to pretend I want to be a nun!"

Harry laughed.

"I don't even believe that Nun rubbish anymore," Nora continued. Then, remembering it was not customary for witches and wizards to discuss religion, she changed the subject. "You know, when you mentioned Quidditch, that's why I looked up. I knew it was a wizard, of course. And when I saw yer face I nearly gasped and burst out, ''Harry Potter!', but Uncle Vernon mustn't know I'm a witch. You know how all the Dursleys are." She groaned with a small smile. "You've met Aunt Marge, I s'pose…?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I've met Aunt Marge," he mumbled, "Crazy old bat. Hates me, she does. Every time she comes over she makes sure they're punishing me enough at St. Brutus'. Doesn't hesitate to make her dog chase me up a tree or hit me, either way."

"She nearly found me out last summer. Had to throw my cauldron into my closet to cover for myself. She came into the room without knocking, and I was doing homework, Snape's, you know. It was an unfinished potion, so of _course_ it burned a hole in my carpeting I couldn't fix, not on vacation, since we're not allowed to. Those are the times I wish my parents weren't Muggles. Aunt Marge never mentioned it again. But she noticed the smell. I was adding asphodel to cream of Bubotubor pus and powdered beetles."

"Ewww…" Harry wrinkled his nose. "Mixed with powdered beetles, that stuff smells terrible."

"But does Snape care?"

"No."

Nora's grin faded. "I only brought my wand and my cat, Poseidon. I named him that because he's odd; he likes water." Nora sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to finish Snape and McGonagall's homework; I'm going back home on the thirty-first of August, Uncle Vernon's driving me back, says he's got to go to London anyway."

Harry thought for a moment. "You know, we could tell them."

"Tell who? Tell them what?"

"Tell Uncle Vernon you're a witch. You see, they've got to take me to London on the twenty-ninth. I'm going to Diagon Alley to get new robes, then I'm going to King's Cross on the first of September. Why don't you, when we bring you back home, grab your things and come back to London with us. I've got two rooms in the inn at Diagon Alley; one for me and one for my best friend Ron. Ron and I could share a room and you could take the other."

"Oh, Harry, really?" Nora was aghast.

"Yes, and meanwhile, I'll help you with your homework, I've got my fourth-year books here somewhere."

"Oh… Harry! That's so gen'rous of you!"

"Let's go, then."

The two of them headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was now hovering over Dudley, pressing him about some girl named Yvette who'd apparently been calling on the telephone quite often.

"Uncle Vernon…?" Nora ventured sheepishly.

"Yes, Nora?"

"I've got some… erm… shocking news for you…"

Uncle Vernon looked up. He looked from Harry to Nora and back again. Aunt Petunia looked at Nora as well, and Dudley stared curiously. Uncle Vernon returned his eyes to the paper, though Harry knew he wasn't really reading; his eyes weren't moving. He grunted to let Nora know to continue.

Nora sighed nervously. She held her chin up and said confidently, "I'm a witch."

There was a dead silence. Then Uncle Vernon burst out laughing, an evil laugh. The suddenness of the outburst made Harry jump.

"I don't know what nonsense Harry's been feeding you, Nora, but there are no such things as witches. That's nonsense."

"No such things as witches?!" Harry yelled, "My mum was a witch, you can't deny it!"

"DO NOT SPEAK ANY MORE OF YOUR… YOUR ABNORMALITY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "NOT IN MY HOUSE!" Then, seeing he seemed to be losing this battle, Uncle Vernon barked, "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!"

Nora put her hands on her hips. "Now, really, Uncle Vernon. Be reasonable. _Please. _I'm a witch. I can do potions and transfiguration and charms and hexes and everything."

"And we can fly," Harry piped up. He always loved throwing in extra things for good measure, or extra Dudley-Scare as case may be.

Uncle Vernon stopped laughing. "Petunia," he mumbled, looking to his wife, who stood frozen at the stove, the grilled cheese she was making Dudley burning.

"Muuuum!" Dudley wailed as he saw the burning sandwiches.

"Uncle Vernon. I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

Uncle Vernon twisted his face and his eye twitched in horror…

"Same school as Harry. I need to leave off of platform 9¾ at King's Cross to get there, and when I do, I'm a Ravenclaw."

"A _what?_"

"A Ravenclaw. Harry's a Gryffindor."

"What the devil is a Racingclaw or a Gryffoodoor? Dare I ask?"

"Ravenclaw, Uncle Vernon, and Gryffindor are houses. At Hogwarts-"

Uncle Vernon had heard enough. "All right! All right!" His face turned the colour of spoiled milk.

He cleared his throat. Aunt Petunia was staring at both of the children with a look of pure contempt and disgust, as if they were a filthy bit of rubbish, like a rotten banana peel in the middle of her perfectly cleaned and vacuumed living room.

"What the Hell…?" Dudley whispered, narrowing his piggy eyes at the two other children.

There was another silence. Harry explained their plan to Uncle Vernon, who reluctantly agreed.

Dudley sneered, "Am I the _only _sane cousin here?" 

"We're not insane," Harry said calmly. "We're… erm… different, I suppose. You might say gifted-"

"Gifted! Pshaw!" Aunt Petunia curled her top lip. Harry was strongly reminded of Snape. "Being some sort of… pagan-"

"_We're not pagans!_"

"Well you're certainly not good practicing Christians!" Aunt Petunia's nostrils flared.

Harry shrugged calmly, knowing it was no use. "I don't think that should matter. We're going upstairs to do our homework."

From an objective opinion, Nora was very pretty. She was small for a fourteen-year-old, thin and short. She had smooth golden-blonde hair that reached the middle of her back and cascaded over her shoulders. Her wide turquoise eyes and long mascara'd lashes looked curious and interested. She had a long slim nose and a little grin in which one corner of her mouth rose higher than the other. She spoke with a graceful Scottish accent; she was from Glasgow. Nora Cardeen wore a V-Neck gray shirt and jeans.

Harry'd grown much more attractive over the summer, too. His once-ragged brown hair was still messy and shaggy, but in a stylish way. It suited his personality. His green eyes shown bright under his round glasses. He was thin but muscular and had grown taller. He had a smile that could weaken knees.

"So you're a prefect, Harry?" Nora asked politely after Harry had helped her complete her homework assignment.

"Apparently. Sent my owl back just today telling them I'd accept."

"And Quidditch Captain! Well, I've no surprise about that. You've got a big future in Quidditch, Harry."

Harry grinned modestly again. "I certainly hope so."

Just then, another owl swooped through Harry's window, carrying a letter. Another floated in close behind it, with a package in its talons.

"Well, Harry, I'll let you open your post… fans, no doubt. Just kidding! I've got to go to lunch with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge. She's in town, you know." Nora waved goodbye to Harry, but first glanced at his calendar. Today was circled and 'Happy Birthday Harry' was written on the block of the date. "Happy birthday, Harry." Nora raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Harry grinned, thanked Nora, and waved goodbye.

He opened the first owl's gift, a large envelope. Inside were two letters. The first, he recognized, was in Ron's writing.

****

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! Lucky me, I was already fifteen J . Hermione's here, (spending more time with Ginny than me, of course…) would you like to come towards the end of summer?

I've got something very, very important to tell you… you'll be delighted, I'm sure.

By the way, Hermione would like to come with us to stay the last night in Diagon Alley; we'll have to share a room.

Write back soon with your response as to if you can come or not. If you can come, we'll come and get you by Floo powder. (You may want to make sure the fireplace is clear this time J )

Happy birthday, again. Congratulations on making prefect and Quidditch captain! (It was in the Daily Prophet; All of them were listed.) You deserve it. J

Ron

The second letter was from Hermione.

__

Dear Harry,

A very happy birthday to you. I hope it's been pleasant. I do hope you can join us at the Burrow, it's ever such a good time, as you well know.

I heard you got prefect… I did as well. I'm just so pleased. Ron's a bit peeved, of course, but keeps insisting he doesn't want the position because of Percy, you know. Oh well… perhaps he'll get Head Boy 7th year, eh?

I'm very happy for you about getting Quidditch captain as well. That's excellent! You sure you can juggle all of that, though? I believe you are fully capable. Just mind you keep your grades up. Did you finish your homework, Harry? *Get it done!* I know you haven't finished it, I know you too well for that. I finished the History of Magic essay for Professor Binns, but It's only two feet longer than what he asked for… the Snape homework, of course, requires an ingredient that I didn't have any left of, so I had to go all the way to Diagon Alley to get some more and… and I'm babbling about school work again, aren't I? ("Yes, Hermione, you are…" Harry thought with a small smile)

__

The Weasley twins, needless to say, are a bit peeved that they're seventh years and neither one is captain, but they both are happy it's you instead of Angelina or Katie (The chauvinists, they just want a boy as captain) and so they're happy for you and know you deserve it.

I'll hopefully see you at the burrow and I will see you in Diagon Alley for sure.

Until then,

Hermione

P.S. Your gift from Ron and me is with the second owl. I hope you'll like it, and I think you'll find it useful for practicing… have I said too much?

Harry opened the parcel the second owl had brought. It was a box filled with the four Quidditch balls (One Red leather Quaffle, two stone brown Bludgers, and the tiny Golden Snitch), strapped into the case for safety, and brand-new and shining. Not a single dent or scratch on a one of them, Harry thought. The school sets were all so beat up, the Bludgers didn't even fly where the beaters hit them anymore, and the Quaffle didn't float like it was supposed to; it fell too fast. Luckily for Harry, the Golden Snitch was fine. Though, he hadn't played Quidditch at Hogwarts for over a year…

It was a glorious birthday. Harry had a present from Hagrid as well -- homemade rock cakes.

"Well," Harry thought, "It's the thought that counts."

He sent a reply back to Ron, telling him to come by Floo powder. After corresponding with him for a few days they'd established a plan. The new plan was that Nora, who was leery about staying at the Weasleys' when she knew only Ginny (and wasn't really friends with Ginny as they were in different houses), would be taken to London by Uncle Vernon on the thirty-first. She'd buy whatever she needed to and meet Ron and Hermione and the inn. She'd stay in a room with Hermione, and Ron and Harry would share a room. The next morning, Ginny and the twins and Mrs. Weasley would meet them at King's Cross and they'd head off to school. But before all of this, Harry would be going to the Burrow in four days.

Ron seemed very interested in Nora. He said he knew of her, but had never really met her.

Harry also found out Ron's big news, and he WAS delighted.

Hermione had a crush on Harry.

***

"Ron, how could you tell him?!"

"Hermione, I'm sorry…" Ron struggled to stifle his laughter.

Hermione sniffled stiffly. "Mm hmm," she said primly. "And I'm sure you thought about how it would make me feel, as long as you got to see Harry's reaction. Ron, we're all three of us best friends! But can't I tell you anything without having to worry you'll go and blab on me?"

"No." Ron chuckled, but seeing the look of horror on Hermione's face, he sobered up. "Look, Hermione, I'm really, really sorry. Truly."

Hermione scrunched up her face and rubbed her eyes as if she had a very bad headache, and at the same time was trying to decide whether to let Ron live or die.

"All right…" Hermione began, (Ron mouthed the word, "Yes!" to himself…) "I forgive you."

"Oh, thank you, Hermione!" Ron ran up to Hermione and was about to give her a bear hug when Ginny opened the door and came in.

"Ginny, didn't I tell you not to come in unless you've first knocked?"

Ginny whistled at the sight of Ron about to pick Hermione up playfully. "I'm fourteen, Ron, not five. I don't have to knock."

"You do, though!" Ron frowned.

Ginny shook her head, grinned devilishly, and Hermione knew Ginny'd won.

"Well, anyway, what do you want, Little Miss Fourth-Year-Who's-Got-A-Fifth-Year-Boyfriend?" asked Ron.

Ignoring Ron's comment at first, Ginny turned to Hermione. "Mum sent me to let you know -- Dad went to go get Harry and-"

"Today?!" Hermione shrieked. "Now?!"

Ginny nodded but wrinkled her eyebrows and continued, "So, Ron, you've got-"

"He wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow!" Hermione squealed.

"Hermione, would you shut up and stop interrupting?" said Ron irritably.

Hermione shut up.

"Anyway, Ron, you've got to clean up around here…" Ginny curled her lip and wrinkled her nose at the plate of food that had been sitting on Ron's desk for three days.

Ron stood up and threw the plate away.

"Done," said Ron, grinning innocently.

Ginny sighed in exasperation and tutted. "I've got to go, I'm going to go de-gnome the garden… Hermione," she said, "Your hair looks fine."

"Does it? You sure?" Hermione was holding a mirror in front of her, running a brush through her long, sleek hair that Mrs. Weasley had cast a straightening spell upon. (Mrs. Weasley did it because Hermione wasn't allowed to, being underage.) The mirror did a quick examination of Hermione, then words popped up onto the glass in curly blue writing,

**__**

"Your hair looks lovely. Put on more eye liner. Your lipstick is fine. Put a nice pin in your hair, and take off some of that eye shadow. Next time, get a shade darker of foundation; You've tanned since the last time you used it."

"Well… mirror's orders," Hermione sighed. The mirror was a ProFriend 02, a staple in every 15-year-old witches' vanity. Hermione followed the mirror's directions and tried not to look as though she were in desperate anticipation of Harry's arrival.

"Hermione, you idiot, calm down! It's just Harry!" Ron looked disgusted.

Hermione calmed down. "You're right, Ron. Harry's seen me loads of times. Why is this time any different?

Ron shrugged. He turned to Ginny, who was leaving to go spend the night at a friend's.

"See you, Ginny," he said.

"See you, Fifth-Year-Who-Doesn't-Have-A-Fifth-Year-Girlfriend."

***

Meanwhile…

Harry packed the last of his potions ingredients into his cauldron with his textbooks, and loaded the cauldron into the trunk with his robes, wand, dragon-hide gloves, and other school supplies. He was expecting the Weasleys to be here to get him at any moment. A thought struck Harry… Hermione would be at the Burrow.

His heart jumped.

Harry snapped himself back to reality as a knock sounded on his door. It was Nora.

"'Lo, Nora."

"Don't you mean, 'G'bye, Nora?'"

"Well… yes…I suppose."

"Have a nice time with the Weasleys."

"Sure you don't want to go, then?"

Nora shook her head. "No. You're lucky, got friends who'll take you in. I don't have an owl so I haven't even talked to any of my friends all summer."

"From what I hear, you're quite popular at Hogwarts."

Nora flushed. "You could say that, I s'pose." Harry noticed that her accent was sort of like Hagrid's, only much prettier, considering it was a girl talking. Her speech all flowed together and she silenced her H's.

"But you're *sure* you don't want to come?"

"Positive, thanks, Harry. I'll be fine, dun' you worry. Came t'say G'bye, though, goin to lunch and you're leaving. I'll see you on the thirty-first, eh?"

Harry nodded. Nora turned to go, then paused. "You sure are lucky, Harry. Life with the Dursleys or anyone like them… t'aint easy. No, t'aint easy."

She left. Harry wondered what she meant. He'd always known the Dursleys were evil, but was Nora being abused?

He didn't really have time to consider this, though, because he heard a clamor in the living room below, and Aunt Petunia's screams.

Mr. Weasley had arrived.

Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage and hurried (as fast as one lugging an extremely heavy trunk can hurry) down the stairs.

"Hello, Mr. Dursley, Arthur Weasley, we met last year. I'm here to pick up Harry."

"Oh, yes. Wait just a moment please."

From the semi-civil conversation going on, Harry assumed that this year's Floo Powder trip had gone much more smoothly than the previous year's… Harry remembered the Ton-Tongue Toffee Dudley had eaten, and the big fuss everyone made on how to remove the three-foot tongue Dudley had obtained from the snack devised by the Weasley twins.

"'Lo, Mr. Weasley," Harry smiled and waved as he descended the stairs.

"All right, Harry?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Great. Ready to go?"

"Definitely." Harry turned to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. "G'bye, then, see you next June, eh?"

The two nodded and Uncle Vernon said something gruffly under his breath that sounded somewhat like "Have a good term," or at least that's what Harry hoped he'd said. Harry didn't bother saying goodbye to Dudley; chances were he was eating in the kitchen and didn't want to be disturbed.

Mr. Weasley led Harry to the fireplace. He threw in a pinch of Floo Powder, and the fire flared up, a bright Kelly green.

"You first, then, Harry," Mr. Weasley said politely.

Harry stepped into the fire and shouted, "THE BURROW!"

Harry saw the many grates whizzing past him, like they always did when traveling by Floo Powder. Soon, he found himself hurling out of the fireplace in the living room of the Burrow. Hedwig's cage fell over and she let out a loud hoot of discontent. As soon as Harry had stood up and brushed off and righted Hedwig's cage, he stepped out of the way. A moment later, Mr. Weasley came through the fireplace.

Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room and over to Harry. She gave him a tight hug. "Oh, Welcome Back, Harry."

They were the sweetest words Harry could think of. The Burrow was Harry's favorite place in the whole world… well, except for Hogwarts, that is.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry and walked to the foot of the stairs. She screamed up to the top,

"Ron! Ginny! Fred! George! Hermione! Harry's here!"

Hermione.

Harry's heart leapt again.

The four redheaded Weasleys came bounding down the stairs. Hermione followed, walking a bit more slowly.

When the light fell upon her face, Harry was shocked.

Her hair, once wild and untamed, was straight and beautiful. She had a bit of makeup on, and Harry barely recognized her. She was radiant.

"'Oy, Harry!" Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry was still looking at Hermione, who nervously tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and looked straight ahead.

"How've you been, Harry?" said either Fred or George.

"Had a good holiday?" said the other twin.

Hermione turned and met Harry's gaze. She smiled.

"I - I'm doing great," Harry said, almost in a whisper. Mesmerized by Hermione's appearance as well as the new way she carried herself, tall and proud instead of shy and scared, he couldn't rip his eyes off of her.

"Miss me, Harry?" Hermione asked.

All Harry could do was nod.

Hermione grinned widely and gave Harry a hug. Harry held on to her tightly, not wanting her to let go. And they stood there, in an embrace. Eventually, Ron cleared his throat and said,

"All right, you two, you have to come up for air some time."

Hermione and Harry started laughing.

"SUPPER'S READY!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.

"Good, I'm starved," Ron said, and the Weasleys headed into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Hermione in the living room.

"I'll be right in, Ron," Harry said.

Ron grinned.

Hermione and Harry stood at each other for a long time. Hermione bit her lip and shuffled her feet.

"So…" they both said at the same time, then started laughing.

"Thank you for the birthday present," said Harry.

Hermione nodded.

"Harry! Hermione! Supper's on the table!" It was Ginny, standing in the doorway and smiling. "Mum said to break you two up." She left.

"Well, let's go eat then, shall we?" Hermione suggested.

The last thing on Harry's mind right now was food, but he nodded anyway.

Hermione turned, then hesitated. She turned back around and gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. She flushed red as she realized what she'd just done, and turned away again.

Harry caught her arm and turned her around. He held her close to him and kissed her gently on the lips. Hermione smiled. They both jumped when they saw Ron in the doorway.

"Would you two come--" Ron stopped. His eyes bugged out of his head as he beheld the scene in front of him: Hermione standing wrapped up in Harry's arms. "On?" Ron finished in a whisper.

Harry nodded and smiled. He drew away from Hermione and walked into the kitchen without looking back. Hermione came to the table about ten seconds later.

No one mentioned anything about it during dinner. No one mentioned anything about it before bed. No one mentioned it until very, very early morning, when Harry was awakened by a knock on the door.

There stood Hermione, dressed in pajamas. She smiled and said, "Morning, Harry."

Harry was overjoyed. Hermione had woken up early to come and see him. "Morning, Hermione."

"Would you like to come and watch the sunrise with me?" Hermione asked meekly.

Harry nodded and took Hermione's hand. She led him out through the window and onto the roof.

"Wow… you come out here a lot? It's gorgeous," Harry breathed. He paused and looked at Hermione. "Just like you."

Hermione's face went deep red. She smiled modestly. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Harry, still groggy and sleepy, laid down onto his back and gazed up and the pink sky.

Hermione looked as though she were thinking about doing something; she bit her lip and her eyes darted around madly.

Suddenly, Hermione leaned down and kissed Harry softly on the lips. She closed her eyes and grinned. Harry grinned back.

He pulled her down and laid her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her sleek brown hair.

Harry blinked his green eyes up at the sun, which was rising above the tree tops now. He heard Hermione's breathing; it was slowing. After a bit, Harry twisted his neck to look at Hermione's face. Her eyes were closed.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, but no response; she was asleep.

***

Hermione never had terribly strange dreams, but this was a special occasion; she'd never laid her head down on Harry's chest, either. Hermione had been lying there, watching the sunrise with Harry, when she'd fallen asleep. Her nap was plagued with an odd reverie:

__

"Let go of the ring, silly girl." The drawling voice was growing nearer. "Take it off. Now."

"Never," Hermione gasped, clutching her left hand to her chest and touching the ruby with her right index finger. She felt all of the strength leaving her body. If she just took the ring off… she could be strong again, but the man would grow strong as well. No… she'd always told herself she would die to save Harry, but now she knew the truth… he had died to save her. There had been no accident. If she left the ring on, she would soon be with Harry.

"Hermione!"

"Harry?" Hermione wheezed, looking around frantically. "Is that you?"

"Help me, Hermione… please."

"Where… are… you…?" Hermione whispered.

"Beside you, Hermione…help me, please…"

"It's too late, Harry, he's already come."

There was a deadly silence, then the sound of running footsteps.

"Harry?"

Silence.

"Harry!"

The silence pierced Hermione's heart and she just wanted to let go of everything. A silent tear burned Hermione's cheek as she thought of Harry deserting her.

"Harry! Please! Don't run away!"

"That was not Harry running away, foolish girl, it was me approaching. You're even more stupid than I thought." The man gave Hermione a sharp kick in the ribs and she yelped like a wounded puppy. She collapsed and closed her eyes.

"Take the ring off!"

"Why… do you want… me… alive?" Hermione tried to look up at the man. "Why… don't you want me… dead?"

"We have some things to ask you." The man grinned maliciously.

"I know nothing… about Harry." Hermione was speaking so quietly she could barely hear herself.

"I'm sure, my dear, that under -- oh, the Cruciatus Curse, perhaps, you'd contain invaluable information for my Lord."

"No… I know nothing…"

The man hadn't heard Hermione; he was mumbling to himself, "Blast that ring, the Accio didn't work… can't cast the Cruciatus on her, not while she's wearing it…damned ring…"

"I KNOW NOTHING!" Hermione shrieked suddenly, her pupils dilating abruptly. She screamed in pain as the ring grew hot and burned her flesh.

"No!" The man shouted. "No! She can't die! My Lord! What shall I do?!"

"I KNOW NOTHING! I DON'T KNOW HOW HE DIED!" Hermione's cries echoed through the hall.

Just as suddenly as her seizure had begun, Hermione stopped moving.

She was dead.

***

"Hermione?" Harry gently shook Hermione's shoulders. She had been whimpering and twitching in her sleep. She'd been muttering, _I know nothing, _over and over.

"W-W-What?" Hermione woke with a start. "Harry!" she turned to Harry.

"My God, Hermione, are you all right?" Harry pulled the shivering Hermione to his chest and kissed the top of Hermione's head. Her shivers and shakes subsided.

Hermione explained her dream to Harry.

"What did the man look like?" Harry pressed worriedly.

Hermione shook her head, her eyes staring blankly. "I don't know… blonde?" She narrowed her eyes. "Yes… blonde."

Harry paused. Then he gasped. "I know who it was, Hermione."

Hermione stared anxiously at Harry. "Who?" she pressed.

"Lucius Malfoy."


	2. Chapter 02

****

CHAPTER 02

"Lucius Malfoy?!" Hermione stared open-mouthed. "You know, Harry, I do believe you might be right… how fearful."

She was silent for a moment, then said very quietly, "It was only a dream."

Harry bit his lip and looked away. He stared into the pale blue sky for a few moments, lost in thought. After a number of minutes, he felt the gentle touch of Hermione's fingers on his shoulder. He flinched. 

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, removing her hand.

"Don't be," Harry coaxed, "You just startled me. That's all." He took her hand and gently kissed her fingers.

Hermione stared at her hand. Harry, still kissing Hermione's fingers, raised his eyes to gaze into her face. Her sleek hair, russet-colored with ginger highlights, shimmered in the gentle sunlight, and a few stray strands blew in front of her face in the soft breeze. She smiled, biting her bottom lip, and leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead. 

Harry's heart quickened. He tried to control his breathing as he moved his kissed up Hermione's arm and towards her neck.

Hermione gulped and closed her eyes, a smile still on her face.

Grinning widely, Harry laid a muted kiss on each of her eyelids, then her cheek, and finally, her sweet lips.

Hermione kissed Harry back and grinned.

Harry pulled Hermione closer to his body and put his hands around her waist. Hermione leaned into Harry's next kiss, absorbing all of his tall, strong body into her small one. Suddenly there was a gasp from behind them.

Standing in Harry's room was Ron, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"What were you two doing?!" Ron whispered frantically.

Harry got off of Hermione very quickly. Ron scowled. "No sex!"

Hermione couldn't help giggling. "We weren't having… oh Ron…"

"Well, it would've turned into that had I not entered the room," Ron pronounced very matter-of-factly.

Harry shook his head and smiled. "Ron, I was only kissing her. A lot."

"No snogging, then." 

Harry cracked up.

Ron wasn't laughing. "It's not funny!"

"It is, though," Hermione insisted, her smile fading.

"What if you'd been seen by my mum or something?" Ron put his hands on his hips. "Be more careful, please."

Hermione and Harry climbed back into the room and sat on the bed. 

"Sorry," they both mumbled.

There was an awkward silence. Ron cleared his throat. "Did you know Seamus Finnegan asked Ginny out?"

"He _didn't!_" Hermione gasped, laughing.

Ron nodded. "He did. She's been to his house thrice this summer, and come back with a very guilty look on her face every time. She went all the way to Ireland to see him." He shook his head in near disbelief.

Harry grinned. 

"I'm going to get some breakfast," Ron said, "Though no one else is up yet and I don't expect anyone to be up for a few hours…" he winked. "I'll just… lock this." He slipped through the door, twisting the lock first.

Harry smiled again. "Oh, Ron…" he mumbled.

Hermione stood up and cleared her throat. "Well, I'll let you rest for a bit, then." She turned to leave.

Harry grabbed her arm. Hermione stopped walking. She turned around. 

"No… stay." Harry flashed his knee-weakening smile.

Hermione melted. "All right, then," she said quietly, sitting on the bed beside Harry and taking his hand in hers. She stared out the open window with a content look upon her face.

She looked so beautiful, Harry thought.

***

He's so handsome, Hermione thought to herself, still gazing out the window. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch him.

"It's chilly," Hermione noted, shivering as a cold breeze blew into the room. "I'll go close the window."

"Or you could get under the covers," Harry suggested innocently, "Nice and warm under here."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm sure it is." 

Doubts though she had, Hermione wanted more of what she'd gotten on the roof, so she peeled back the thick quilt and climbed in between the sheets.

"That's much better," she whispered.

"Is it?" Harry asked, wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

Hermione nodded as Harry leaned down and kissed her. He touched her face gently.

"Harry?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Do you still like Cho Chang?"

Harry flinched. "No." he said automatically. "Not at all. Not anymore."

"If I… asked you something, would you… would you think I was a prat?" Harry asked cautiously.

"No, I don't think so," Hermione replied. "But I suppose it depends. What are you going to ask me?"

"Hermione," Harry took a deep breath, though his voice still shook, "I have loved you for ages. I didn't realize it, but I have. I still love you. Will you…. Would you… be my girlfriend?"

There was a moment's silence. 

Hermione suddenly grinned widely. "Of course I will be your girlfriend, Harry, I love you, too…" she kissed him. "I just can't believe ---"

Her next words were silenced by Harry's ecstatic kisses.

***

"Father, I won't."

"You will, Draco, it is not your decision."

Draco Malfoy shot a look of disgust at his father, Lucius. "I am nearly sixteen, Father--"

"You are nothing but a silly little boy," Lucius spat, narrowing his steely eyes.

There was a silence broken only by the crackling of the angry fire.

Draco shook his head and glowered. "I am not your son."

Lucius started. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in horror. "Not my son?! You are me in every sense of the word."

"I am not you! I am Draco, my own person with my own mind, Father!" Draco's voice faltered and he looked away. "You think I am still eleven years old, wrapped up in my heroic father. You are no hero. You're a villain who cares nothing for anyone but himself. You care only about your own progress in the social and financial aspects of life, but what about when you die, Father? What then?"

Lucius sank into an armchair near the fireplace in the dimly lit study and rubbed his temples. He closed his eyes and sighed, "How you've changed, Draco."

Draco had indeed changed. His once slick, oily appearance had been changed to a more relaxed look. His blonde hair had grown out a bit, and he'd let a few strands fall in front of his face, with his slightly tilted blue eyes and sharp chin. His frame and smile were appealing; he was quite handsome.

"You are accurate, Father. I have changed. I am no longer deaf. I am no longer blind. I hear your words. I see what you've done. Can't you see how very wrong you are? How very… ignorant --"

"I will NOT be spoken to like that!" Lucius shouted, standing up from his chair and clenching his fists.

Draco shook his head. His green robes glowed bright green and his sapphire eyes shone with odium in the firelight. "Father, I have no more respect for you. I will NOT be a Death Eater."

"You'll be a poor Auror, that's what you'll be," Lucius spat. "Penniless, like that stupid prat Arthur Weasley."

Draco swelled with rage. 

"Psh." Lucius pronounced. "You're becoming a Muggle-Lover, Draco. And when the Dark Lord rises again, you'll be sorry, you'll be on the losing side!"

"The Dark Lord hasn't been seen in months!" Draco hissed. "Dumbledore is stronger than the Dark Lord will ever be again!"

"That old fool!" Lucius scoffed, his voice full to the brim with malice.

"I've had it, Father." Draco said seriously.

"Oh, you've had it, have you?" Lucius replied, an amused look on his slimy face.

"Yes." Draco looked grave and offended. "I'm leaving."

"And where are you going?" Lucius tried to hide his panic, his eyes flashing.

"I'm going to London. I've got my Gringotts key." Draco attempted to look confident. He extracted a tiny golden key from his inside robe pocket. Then, Draco turned and exited the study. A few minutes later, he returned, lugging his heavy trunk filled with everything he'd need for school. Then, without a glance back, he muttered, "Goodbye, Father."

Draco kicked the heavy wooden French doors open and gazed out into the thunderstorm. "Tell Mum I said goodbye," Draco mumbled. He walked out into the rain and to the sidewalk. There, he extended his right arm, and soon, the multiple-floored, purple Knight Bus pulled up. The doors opened, and Draco looked up into Stan Shunpike's bright, merry eyes. "London, please," he said. "Diagon Alley."

***

Ron yawned as he stretched. 

"Morning already?" He groused.

In the twin bed across the room, Harry too awoke. "I think it must be," Harry responded. "Most unfortunately."

"I suppose that's… ow…" Ron had sat up too quickly; his head was pounding. 

"Y'okay?" Harry whispered. Fred and George were still sleeping.

Ron nodded mistily. "I suppose that's what we get for playing Exploding Snap and Wizards' Chess with Fred and George 'till three in the morning."

"Correction," Harry pointed out. "That's what **you** get. **I'm** fine. Heh heh!" Harry laughed teasingly.

Ron stuck his tongue out, strongly resembling a six-year-old. 

"Think we'd best be off to breakfast, then," said Harry.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, crawling out of bed and shivering.

The two boys changed sleepily into wizard's robes. (Harry had decided he preferred dressing like a wizard to dressing like a Muggle boy.) Harry wore bright red, in honour of Gryffindor. His floor-length robes were made from luxurious crushed velvet and clasped with golden clips in the front. Underneath the robes, he wore a white button-down shirt and black pants. Ron wore hideous orange robes that clashed horribly with his hair. Ron's favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, wore orange robes, and Ron had always wanted to look like the Chudley Cannons. Underneath **his** robes, Ron wore a black Chudley Cannons T-shirt and jeans. 

On an ordinary summer day, Harry wouldn't really have wanted to wear floor-length robes, but today was dreary and wet. Cold raindrops dribbled down the windowpanes, and the chilly dampness permeated everyone to the bone.

Harry and Ron crept out the door and down the stairs. Under normal circumstances, the two boys wouldn't be awake at six in the morning while on holiday. They wouldn't be heading down to breakfast until ten or perhaps eleven. However, today was not a day of normal circumstances. Today was the day that Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Nora, Fred, and George went to get fitted for new robes, buy new books and restock on Potions ingredients. Also, they planned on going over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour for some sundaes. 

The two boys reached the base of the stairs and entered the Leaky Cauldron. 

"Morning, boys," said Tom, the innkeeper and bartender jovially. "Up rather early, aren't we?"

"We want to be first in line this morning to buy our school things." Harry's voice echoed in the empty pub. Or at least, he **thought** it was empty.

"Your friends are in a parlour over there." Tom pointed to the private parlour in the corner of the pub. He grinned toothily. 

"Thanks!" Harry said, sounding somewhat puzzled.

"No problem, boys. Can I get you something to drink?" Tom asked.

"I'm a bit chilly," Ron replied thankfully. "How about a butterbeer?" 

Tom nodded with a smile. "Same for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded gratefully. He reached in his pocket and pulled out some silver sickles and paid Tom, who poured the two butterbeers and handed the steaming mugs to the boys. 

Ron and Harry headed past the empty tables, several still with chairs and wooden stools laid upside-down on their surfaces. They unlatched the heavy mahogany door and pulled it open. Sitting and talking at the table were Hermione, Ginny, Nora and…

****

Draco Malfoy?!

"What's **he** doing here?" Ron demanded irately. He snarled and narrowed his eyes.

Harry said nothing but stared in horror.

"Look, chaps, there's a perfectly logical explanation to all—" Nora began, but was cut off by Ron.

"There is no explanation. **He** does not consort with **our** kind." Ron looked daggers at Malfoy, who didn't look up. In fact, Malfoy gulped as he stared into his butterbeer, and he had his eyes lowered. He almost looked… could it be? Harry thought. He looked… shamed.

"Ron!" Hermione's eyes were red, as though she were about to cry. "Just hear us out, all right?"

Ginny didn't say anything at all. Actually, Harry noted, she was staring blankly out a window. 

Harry sat down next to Hermione, who placed a soft good-morning kiss on his cheek.

Ron stood, clutching his butterbeer mug as though he feared Malfoy would steal it.

"Sit down, Ron," said Ginny quietly. Ron sat.

Malfoy stared intently into his torrid butterbeer.

"Draco," said Nora in a soothing voice, "Why don't you tell them what happened?"

Draco cleared his throat and looked up groggily. "First of all," he began, his silky voice still carrying a hint of its old iciness. "I want to apologize. To all of you. To both Weasleys… I'm sorry I mocked your… er… financial situation."

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Draco looked impassive. "And to Potter… I'm sorry I was so jealous of your fame and glory. You really are a very nice person."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. Were his ears deceiving him?

"And to Granger… I mean… _Hermione_… I'm sorry I made fun of your Muggle heritage." He cleared his throat again. "I was so very wrong. But earlier this summer, I had a revelation. An awakening, you might say. My parents… well, everyone knows they're Dark. But I don't want to follow in their footsteps. I know as well as anyone else that He-Who-Must… I mean… Lord Voldemort," Everyone at the table but Harry flinched, "is rising slowly again, gaining power and followers again… but I refuse to be one of his followers. I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want to get involved in all of that. _I don't want to be a Dark Wizard."_

"Good for you, Draco!" said Nora enthusiastically.

Draco smiled weakly and continued. "I want to be on the Good side. Even if it's the losing side. I don't care anymore. I don't care if we're winning right now, I just care about not killing anyone, not going to Azkaban… just because my parents are evil doesn't mean I have to be evil, too."

Harry squinted. Ron looked suspicious. 

"I suppose you're right, Malfoy, but… how are we supposed to trust you? You were so… cruel… to us these past few years," Harry said quietly.

"I know, Potter… **Harry**… but, can I convince you to forget the past? Or at least forgive it? I had to run away from home to escape the Dark Arts, and for what? To be doubted. Not to be believed. Look, I'm sorry about what I've done, really, really sorry. I can't change the past, but I can change the future." 

He extended a trembling hand for Harry to shake. Reluctantly, Harry gently shook Malfoy's hand. Ron was not so easy to convince. He eventually shook Malfoy's hand, though, and after a bit, the entire group headed over to Madame Malkin's for robes.

"You know, Draco, this is the place that I first met you," Harry said in a falsely tender voice, batting his lashes jokingly at Malfoy.

Malfoy started to say something, but his comment turned to a genuine smile. 

The bell on Madam Malkin's door tinkled as the crowd of teenagers entered the store.

"Hello, dears. Hogwarts robes?" Madam Malkin pulled out her magical tape measurer, which zipped around each of the students in turn, taking their measurements.

"Let's see, we have Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, **Mister** Weasley, Miss Cardeen, Mr. Potter and… Mister Malfoy…" Madam Malkin looked a bit shocked at the concept of Malfoy and Harry entering a store together. Harry didn't blame her. It was almost common knowledge that the Malfoys hated Harry, and vice versa. 

After everyone had been measured and bought their robes, they went to Florean Fortescue's. Everyone got sundaes and sat outside at a large table.

"So, tell me, Draco," said Nora, "Are you a prefect this year as well?" 

Draco nodded. "Yes. Most unfortunately, it's me and Pansy Parkinson."

"You have regrets, don't you?" Hermione said quietly after a moment's silence.

Draco sighed. "Yes. I wish I hadn't been born the son of Lucius Malfoy. And I must admit that there was a time that I **was** genuinely evil. People will have a hard time believing I have a desire to change my ways. They won't like it. They'll doubt me." Ron slid down a bit in his seat. Draco continued, "I'm in Slytherin. You Gryffindors and Ravenclaws would be really surprised to see how many future Death Eaters there are in Slytherin House. I wish I could change houses. But I've had an idea."

"What's that, Draco?" Pressed Nora. 

Draco looked directly at her. "I'm going to be a spy."

Harry looked puzzled. "How do you mean?" 

"I mean, I'm going to stay in Slytherin House and listen to what the students say about what their parents are doing and the like. I'll take that information straight to Dumbledore. He'll believe me, I know he will."

"Draco, that's going to be really hard to pull off…" Hermione sounded cynical. 

"How do you figure?" 

"I mean, you hanging out with Ron and me, and especially Harry, people are going to be really suspicious on both sides." Hermione explained.

Draco sighed. 

"Perhaps you shouldn't be seen at Hogwarts being friends with us," Harry suggested. "You could pretend to hate us."

Draco chuckled. "**That** might be a bit too much fun." 

Hermione grinned. "But it just might work."

"When should we start?" asked Harry.

"Nowish?" suggested Draco.

"Sounds good to me," shrugged Ron. "It's easier for me to pretend to hate you than try to like you, Draco." He smiled weakly.

"I'm going to take that as some sort of twisted truce, Weasley." Draco stood. "I've got to go to the Quidditch store. I've got to get some wood polish for my broomstick. I'll meet you all at the Leaky Cauldron at eight. Meet me in the private parlour. We'll have supper."

Everyone nodded. Draco walked away.

"I can't believe it!" said Hermione. "Draco… **not** evil… It's amazing!" 

Harry nodded. "It's… a bit odd, I know, but… well, I think I actually believe him."

Ron bit his lip. "I don't know… he seems really serious about it. I mean, people do change. I suppose. But he's been so very mean to me these past few years…" 

"We've got to try to get past that," said Nora. "I think deep down, he's really a good person."

"You know, Nora, I think you fancy him!" Harry gasped.

Nora went pink. She cleared her throat. "You know, I've got to go the Magical Menagerie to get some things for my cat."

"I've got to go to Ollivander's," said Ginny. "This stupid cheap wand. Needs to be replaced, really, but I can't afford it. I'll just have to see what Mr. Ollivander can do for it."

"I'm going to the book store," Hermione told them.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm going to stay here and finish my ice cream."

"I'll come with you, then, Hermione," Harry said, standing and extending a hand to help Hermione out of her chair.

Everyone went their separate ways, having agreed to meet for supper at eight.

Hermione and Harry walked down the cobblestone street to Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore of Diagon Alley. It was stale and stuffy inside the hot, crowded shop. 

Hermione hurried over to the History section. She scanned the spines excitedly. "Ooh!" she squealed, heaving a large, heavy book off of one of the shelves. "_An Examination of Hogsmeade: The Only All-Magical Village in Britain_. I've been waiting for this to come out for **ages**!"

"Nice," Harry tried to sound enthusiastic. "You buying it?" He rubbed dust out of his eyes and coughed.

"Oh, no, it's much too expensive. I'll just stay here and read it for a while." Hermione sunk into a huge, overstuffed armchair.

"Oh." Harry said, hoping Hermione would suggest that he could go somewhere else. The dust was really getting to him. "Er… I'll buy it for you."

"Oh, Harry, that's very generous of you, but no thank you," Hermione looked up from the book. "It's too expensive, and besides, I'm only interested in a few things in here. Although, I will have to tell Ron about it; there's a whole chapter on Zonko's Joke Shop."

Harry forced a laugh.

"If you want to go," Hermione said kindly, "I'd be perfectly fine with that. I can't imagine you want to stay in an old bookshop all day."

Harry nodded gratefully, and turned to go. Then, he turned around and kissed Hermione lightly on the lips before he left. Just across the way was Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry hadn't remembered that Draco was in that store, too, before he entered.

Harry was examining a small book that had been on display, _Seekers' Strategies_, when he heard a voice from behind him.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter." It was Draco, sitting on a large pouf and reading _Quidditch Through the Ages_. He closed the book and tilted his head. "Here to learn how to be a **good** Seeker? I could help you there."

Draco's voice was smooth as milk, but his eyes flashed and he widened them, along with curling up his mouth in a small, crooked smile to show Harry (and hopefully only Harry) that he was joking. Harry decided to play along.

"Shove off, Malfoy. As I recall, you've never won a game against me."

Malfoy tried to sneer, and muttered under his breath, "Arse hole…"

Harry tried not to laugh; Malfoy did the same.

Harry pretended to be looking at a shelf filled with some more Quidditch books, but he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Nice."

"Thank you." Malfoy whispered back, hiding his mouth behind his book. "Not so bad yourself. What are you doing here?"

"Forgot you were here."

"Oh."

"I've got to go get some Potions stuff. I'll leave."

"No!" Draco whispered hurriedly. "**I've** got to go get Potions stuff."

"Well, come over there in a few minutes. I'll probably be gone."

"All right. Then leave."

Without another word, Harry flashed Malfoy a hateful look before sauntering out of the store. He went next door, into a small shop filled with barrels of Potions supplies, some of them quite disgusting.

"Eurgh," Harry thought to himself as he examined a barrel of pickled pig snout. "Let's see," Harry mumbled, "I need… powdered beetles… uh oh."

Malfoy had entered the store.

"What, are you stalking me or something?" said Harry loudly.

Malfoy smiled sarcastically but said nothing as he looked at some solid gold cauldrons. 

"What are you doing here?" hissed Harry.

"I got bored."

"Right…"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hey, look, Potter, toad's feet." Malfoy picked up a toad's foot and put it in Harry's hair. Harry scrunched up his face, tipped his head forward, and the foot fell into a golden cauldron. 

Malfoy leaned over the cauldron to extract the foot. Harry reached for a large bottle on a shelf labeled "Banshee Blood". Harry uncorked the bottle and slowly poured the lavender liquid over Malfoy's blonde hair. 

"Potter!" hissed Malfoy.

"I'm just playing along," whispered Harry roguishly.

Malfoy froze. "L-l-look," he whispered, pointing at the cauldron, which was now steaming.

"What happened?" asked Harry frantically.

"I don't know… toad's foot and… what was that shit? Banshee Blood?! Eurgh… I don't know what happens when you mix those two!" Malfoy was frenetic. 

They soon found out. The toad's foot, drenched it Banshee Blood, began to hiss as it steamed. Then it began to hiss louder…

Then it exploded.

Bits of toad's foot and splatters of Banshee Blood drenched Harry and Malfoy.

"Eurgh!" Harry said.

Malfoy grimaced. "Good thing nobody was around, Potter, or we'd be in big trouble."

It was true. The manager of the store, who had been standing behind the counter, had taken the only other customer in the store back to the storage room to show her some of their items not in the front room.

"What do you suppose is going to happen?"

"I don't know…"

"_We'd better get out of here, and fast," _thought Harry.

"_Good idea."_

Harry widened his eyes in shock. "Can you hear me?" he whispered.

Draco, looking even more shocked than Harry, nodded slowly. His jaw dropped. "Harry… this potion's given us telepathy!"

Harry blinked. "Merlin!" he gasped. "We can talk in our brains… weird…"

"_So, you can hear me?"_

_"Yes… this is bizarre." _

_"Sure is… let's get out of here, before the manager comes back!"_

The two boys ran out of the store and went two opposite directions

***

That night, at seven fifty-five, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Nora were seated around the table in the private parlour. They'd been there for ten minutes.

"Where's Malfoy?" demanded Ron, "Bet he doesn't show."

"Relax, Ron, he's got five minutes 'till meeting time," Ginny said.

_"Malfoy, where are you?"_ Harry thought.

There was a moment's pause.

_"Stop pestering me. I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm waiting on purpose."_

"Why?"

"So no one thinks I'm actually with you all."

"Oh. All right."

"I'll be there in ten minutes or so."

"He'll be here in ten minutes." Harry said aloud.

Everyone stared at him. "How do you know that?" questioned Hermione.

"Er…" Harry debated whether or not he should tell them why he could talk to Malfoy.

"_Can I tell them that we have this power?" _Harry asked Malfoy.

_"Er… tell them about the accident, but say you don't know what was in the Potion."_

"All right."

"There was an accident in the Potions supplies store today," Harry said. "Malfoy and I got telepathic powers from it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What was in the potion?"

"We're not sure, exactly, but it exploded."

Everyone looked impressed. "So you… you can talk to him in your head?" Hermione said in awe. "That's incredible! They've never been able to work out how to make a Telepathy potion!"

Harry smiled nervously.

There was a knock on the door. Tom walked in, carrying a tray of butterbeer mugs. "How's beef stew sound for you all?" he asked.

"Sounds great, Tom. We're expecting one more," Hermione said.

_"Do you want beef stew for dinner?_"

_"Eurgh, no, I hate stew. See if they've got any fish and chips._"

"Have you got any fish and chips?" Harry asked suddenly.

Tom nodded. 

"Could you please make one of those stews a fish and chips?"

Tom nodded again and walked away.

"I didn't know you don't fancy stew, Harry," Ron said.

"I like stew. Malfoy said he doesn't like it, though."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "This is amazing!"

Harry laughed.

Malfoy walked into the parlour. "Hello, all."

"Evening, Draco," Nora said, beckoning Malfoy to the seat beside her.

Draco sat. "Did you happen to order me fish and chips instead of the stew, Harry?" he asked.

Ron looked amazed.

Harry nodded. Everyone ate dinner, laughing and talking like old friends. After supper, everyone headed upstairs to bed. They would need to be up early the next morning to get to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express.

***

_"How did she find the ring?"_

"I'm not entirely sure, Master, but when her body disintegrated, the Ring was destroyed."

"Did you steal her soul before she died?"

"Alas, Master, I could not touch her. The Ring provided too much protection."

"Not even her heart?"

Lucius Malfoy was silent for a moment. "I am sorry to say, Master, that I was not able to obtain any of her soul at all."

The Dark Lord swore loudly. "I **needed** that girl's soul! I could have at least gotten by with her heart!"

"The thieves are at Hogwarts, Master."

"And all this year, they have been able to steal nothing?!"

"Nothing, Master."

The Dark Lord swore again. "They are too young."

"One is a sixth-year, my Lord."

"And the other?"

"She is a fifth-year."

"I see. She is of no further use to me as a thief."

Lucius was shocked. "What shall I do with her, Master?"

There was another silence.

"Kill her. But first, steal her heart."

"Yes, Master."

Hermione awoke with a start. She was drenched in cold sweat, and her erratic breathing was fast and shallow. Once she had settled down enough to stand up, Hermione put on her bathrobe and slippers and sneaked out the door. She headed down the corridor to Harry's room and knocked. 

After a few moments, Harry came to the door, groggy and bleary-eyed.

"What is it, Hermione? Are you all right?"

"I've had another dream, Harry. Another premonition."

Harry was silent as Hermione told him all about her dream. Finally, he spoke.

"I think it is time to tell Draco."

***

A/N: Ooooh, another "premonition"! What does Draco think about Hermione's dreams? Read on and find out!


End file.
